


Hungry For More

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Dean Winchester / Female Reader - Freeform, Dean Winchester NSFW, Dean Winchester One Shot, Dean Winchester Smut, Dean Winchester one shot nsfw, Dean Winchester one shot smut, Demon!Dean / Female Reader - Freeform, Demon!Dean NSFW, Demon!Dean SMUT, Demon!Dean one shot, Demon!Dean one shot nsfw, Demon!Dean one shot smut, F/M, Female Reader, Female Reader NSFW, Female Reader SMUT, Female Reader one shot, NSFW, One Shot, Rough Sex, Smut, choking!kink, maturbation, one shot nsfw, one shot smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spending a night with Dean and his insatiable sexual appetite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry For More

Dean had come to love a lot of things in his 30+ years of life.

 

First it was his mother, his giver of life. The one whose breast sustained him until he was 2, kissed the crown of his head while humming _Hey Jude,_ and the one he ran to when he scraped his knee after falling in the dirt.

 

Then it was his father. The Marine that had a huge soft spot for his family, that loved to watch John Wayne movies, and drink beer to drown out the memories of Vietnam. The man that no matter how bad of a day it was or how many times his eyes glazed over when the memories of _his war_ came crashing down, he would always kiss his son goodnight with a tickle and a smile.

 

Then along came Sammy, hazel eyes and a mop of feather soft hair, completely dependent on everyone around him. He didn’t do much besides sleep, cry, and shit, but in those moments, Dean, 4 years old and living life to the fullest a toddler can, was happy.

 

And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. His little brother, this screaming infant, was thrust into his arms. His father commanded him to go outside while his mother, _oh god, his mother_ , burned to death.

 

His father changed that night. It was only natural that he would. He piled them into the back of the car and drove. He drove until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, until the screams of Sammy became too much to bear, until Dean asked one too many times _are we there yet?_

 

Because of their new living arrangements and lifestyle, he grew to love his father's music, his father's jacket, and most of all, his father's car. The car he learned to drive in, the car he learned to tear the engine apart only to put it back together again, and the car he lost his virginity in.

 

He loved bacon cheeseburgers and fries dipped in chocolate shakes. He loved sugary cereals and the way it turned the milk different colors. He loved finding the surprise at the bottom of the box, which he usually gave to Sammy. He loved comic books and Star Wars. He loved learning how to shoot a gun and making home-made rock salt rounds. He loved hunting the things that went bump in the night and putting them down like the monsters they were. He loved his family. They may be small, they may be broken, but he loved them.

 

Then there was sex. _My, god,_ the sex. Every position, every angle, every woman… he wasn’t picky. He loved women with or without curves, with or without sexual knowledge, give him pussy and breasts, and he was a happy, _happy_ man.

 

But nothing, _no one_ got his motor running like her. He had done things with her, _to_ her that he knew no one else would enjoy as much as he did, as much as _she_ did. And tonight was no exception.

 

She was spread out on the bed, arms above her head, wrists secured to the headboard by soft leather cuffs. Her gloriously long legs were spread, ankles secured like her wrists.  She writhed on the bed, her bod aching for his touch, for any kind of friction.

 

A moan of desperation fell from her full lips, raspy from having just screamed his name like it was a mantra.

 

He slapped her breast, drawing blood to the unbroken surface. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

 

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, biting it roughly. Her eyes, pupils lust blown, went wide, and she balled her hands into fists, tugging on her restraints. They followed him as he strutted alongside the bed, unashamed of his nakedness. If she tilted her head just so, she could see the wide head of his cock swinging with each step.

 

At the end of the bed, Dean took himself in his hand and very slowly, very deliberately, began to pump himself. He was still damp from her slick, just starting to grow tacky. His calloused hands worked expertly at his length, sweeping his thumb over his tip. “You like to watch, don’t you, Y/N?”

 

She pushed her head into the mattress as her back arched off the bed. He smiled in approval when the grunt of his name caught in her throat. With her legs spread as they were, she couldn’t rub her thighs together, but that didn’t stop her from trying. She craved friction anyway she could get it.

 

He bit his bottom lip as he pumped a little faster, the one long vein that ran along the underside of his cock became more prominent. He knew how much she loved to run her tongue along that vein, even nip at it or scrape a fingernail over it. His lids drooped as he reached down and grabbed his balls, giving them a firm squeeze.

 

She tugged on all her restraints and opened her mouth to beg him to get over here and fuck her in whatever hole he wanted, but all that came out was a breathy cry. He couldn’t punish her for that, could he?

 

He wasn’t focused on the fact that she was _almost_ breaking the rules. His half-closed eyes were settled on her sex. She was dripping wet and he could almost see the rush of blood under her skin with every race of her heart.

 

Just when he thought he might have gone too far, that he might come all over himself, he stopped, and pinched the tip in order to put his orgasm on hold. His lungs ached from breathing heavy and he knew just by looking at her, just by smelling the sex in the air, that she was more than ready.

 

He knelt at the end of the bed and hunched over, fists on either side of her hips. He dipped his head, brushed his nose against her hip bone, and breathed her in. “Fuck, Y/N, you smell incredible.”

 

She rolled her hips, pushing his face closer to the part of her that literally ached for him. He glowered at her before digging his fingers into her hips, pushing them down into the mattress. “Hold. Still.”

 

He didn’t give her time to respond. One second he was giving a command and the next, he had two digits thrust into her pussy. It took everything she had left, which wasn’t much, not to move or cry out as his fingers assaulted her. She was doing really well, too, until he flicked his tongue over her already over-stimulated clit.

 

She split her lip from biting it too hard and let loose a scream that was sure to wake the neighbors. You know, if they were in that kind of setting.

 

Dean withdrew his fingers and was on her in a flash, slick-fingered hand on her throat and squeezing roughly. “What. Did. I. Say?”

 

Her airway obstructed, all she could do was mouth his commands back at him. _Be quiet and hold still._

 

Hand still on her throat, he kissed her savagely, drawing more blood from the cut her teeth had made. He knew how long she could go without air, plus they had a safe word / signal, so he waited until she knocked on the headboard _shave and a haircut_. His fingers were gone from her throat so that she could participate more in the kiss. Giving her tongue one last suck, he slapped each breast twice before biting his way back between her legs. Her breasts and stomach bore various shades of red and purple from his teeth and fingers, but not one of them hurt more than she could handle.

 

He looked up at her and smirked as he thrust his fingers between her folds, groaning as she latched onto him. Her whole body shook, but she forced herself not to grind against him, to force his mouth on her next. With a throaty chuckle, he blew on her as his fingers pumped, crooking them against the one spot that would send her into oblivion.

 

Her whole body flushed as she came on Dean’s hand, but he wasn’t done with this orgasm. He flicked his tongue over her clit, circling it with the tip before wrapping his sinfully full lips around it. He gave one hard suck, nipping at it with his teeth and it was as if someone threw a flash grenade in her mind. A piercing static burst in her ears and her vision went white. Her hips came off the bed as she screamed _DeanDeanDeanDean_. He grabbed her ass and buried his face further, forcing her through the painful orgasm.

 

She licked her lips, spreading the blood from the cut in the corner as her body continued to twitch. She quickly came to the realization that she disobeyed his rules when she felt the iron grip on her throat. She looked up into a pair of green eyes that were slowly being taken over by his pupils.

 

He flexed his fingers around her neck and rest between her legs, pushing the head of his cock against her. Her body still hummed with the energy of her orgasm, her clit actually hurt, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to feel his cock buried deep in her pussy. She rolled her hips and was rewarded with the intrusion of his tip.

 

Dean sneered, “you want my cock?”

 

He hadn’t started to choke her yet, just the weight of his hand and the promise of things to come whenever he flexed his fingers. One word fell from her lips, “yes.”

 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. You’ve ignored the rules.” He used every ounce of restraint he possessed not to thrust his hips. Instead, he pressed forward, just the slightest amount really.

 

Her neck vibrated beneath his hand. “I’m sorry.”

 

Dean grabbed her breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, grinding the heel of his hand into her nipple. “Are you?” Vice-like fingers pinched the pebbled nipple, tugging at it, sending a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure down her spine.

 

Her back arched almost completely off the bed. “Yesssss.”

 

He swept his thumb over the hollow of her throat, feeling her heart race beneath his fingers before giving a quick squeeze. She gasped at the lack of oxygen and he smiled at the flicker of helplessness in her eyes. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

 

She sucked in a breath through her teeth once his hand relaxed just enough. “I want you to fuck me.”

 

Everything after that was almost a blur. He drove himself into her hard enough that her head smacked into the headboard. Again and again, with a wet smack of skin sent through the room every time their hips met. Their grunts and moans echoed the sounds their bodies made.

 

She began to quake beneath him, around him, and he knew that cutting off her oxygen supply would get them both off that much faster. With a snarl, his hand flexed, pinching off the top of her wind pipe. Her eyes went wide and her orgasm was almost immediate. She grunted and gurgled as she came hard and almost violently. Her face began to turn a lovely shade of crimson, reminding Dean of freshly spilled blood.

 

He pistoned his hips harder, using his grip on her throat for leverage, slamming against her until his balls squeezed, and he came. The black of his pupils exploded as he spilled into her. Their darkness consumed the intense green and white until there was nothing left. It was like looking into a starless sky.

 

Her knuckles tapped the headboard, the signal that she’s reached her hard limit. His hand loosened, but his hips didn’t stop their assault. Even though they had both come, their bodies craved the friction. His balls smacked against her ass with a slick slap and his mouth was on her neck where his hand had just been. He bit, licked, and sucked until she came again. No words, no sound this time, just a high arch of her back and her mouth thrown open. He rode her until neither one of them could move, until they had reached the limit of their own bodies.

 

* * *

Freshly showered the next morning, she inspected the bruises, hickeys, beard burns, and marks left from the cuffs. He stared at her from the bed, both of them naked, the room _reeking_ of sex and leather and candle wax and various lotions. The way her ass bounced when she shifted on her feet in front of the mirror sent blood rushing down to his groin.

 

He watched her fingers skim over the marks he had left, the marks that reminded her that she belonged to him. He felt himself stir, growing hard again. He slid his hand down his stomach and grabbed his shaft, running his fingertips along the vein. She caught sight of him fisting himself in the mirror and turned on her heel. She licked her lips as drops of pre-cum spilled out his slit.

 

“You hungry?” His hand abandoned his cock so he could spit in it, licking the tips of his fingers before they wrapped around his generous girth.

 

All she could do was nod as her mouth watered. Watching him pleasure himself was another one of her turn-ons. Which let’s face it, those greatly outweighed the turn-offs these days.

 

Eyes flicking to black, he pumped himself harder and crooked a finger, beckoning her to him. “Get over here.”


End file.
